The Safehouse
by redheadfaerie
Summary: After suffering from an unknown curse at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange, Hermione is placed in a safehouse with the Dursleys while Harry and Ron search for the remaining horcruxes. Will she pine after Ron, or spend her time falling in lust, and possibly even love, with Dudley Dursley?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- it is all jo's and i make no money from it. Originally written in 2008 and posted on GE. Taken from my Livejournal (which thankfully still has most of my fics, as I lost some when GE went down) and edited because I posted to LJ before things went to the beta.

Chapter 1 The Safehouse

Hermione screamed until her throat had torn and her voice was gone as Bellatrix Lestrange sent Crucio after Crucio upon her, trying to force information from her. When it became horribly obvious that Hermione was not going to give in to the pain and reveal anything to her, Bellatrix stopped what she was doing and let out a laugh that made the blood run cold in the veins of every person in the room.

She walked around the young woman, her eyes intent as her manic laughter turned into a twisted smile. Standing about three feet in front Hermione, she flourished her wand and pointed it at the teen's face, screaming the words "Adflictatonis Veratis!"

Hermione dropped to the ground, the pain in her throat from her renewed screams causing her to tear and cry just as much as the excruciating pain that was riding her body in waves. She had no idea what the curse used on her was, but it hurt much worse than the Crucio's had. The fact that she didn't know that there such a curse that could cause more pain than Crucio was her last thought before she passed out, falling into Draco, who quickly moved away from her unconscious touch, letting her hit the floor.

The next conscious thought Hermione had was how much her entire body ached. She didn't even know thalf of the places that were causing her pain had even existed. She took in a deep breath of air, the constricting of her throat bringing tears to her eyes. When she opened her eyes, letting the salty tears flow down her cheeks, she saw a ceiling that was painted the spectrum of blues the of the sky at twilight, fading into light blue walls.

She tried to turn her head to the side so she could try to make out anything familiar in the unfamiliar room, but at the slightest movement her muscles froze up, wrenching a painful gasp from her lips. At the muted sound, she heard a rustle of clothing in the room just before Harry's face was above her, searching hers with worried eyes. When she tried to open her mouth to ask him where she was, she found that she could not for the flaming pain that ran down the length of her throat.

"Hermione, don't try and talk," he told her gently, pushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear. "Madame Pomfrey says that you tore your vocal chords. She was able to get some skele-grow and some potions for the internal bleeding down your throat while you were sleeping, but she hasn't found anything that can fix your voice yet. She thinks you may have to wait until it comes back on its own." By the time he had finished his little speech, he was also crying silently, the tears falling from his bent face to land on her shirt. "Actually, I have to go and get her to tell her you woke up. Ron, too." With a slight nod of understanding from her, he was out the door.

Barely a minute later, her room was overcrowded, now holding Bill, Fleur, Harry, Ron, and Madame Pomfrey, who was trying to shoo the others away. The only one she succeeded in getting rid of was Fleur, who went to go check on the others that had escaped from Malfoy Manor.

Bill stood back to watch and be there for the official prognosis, but both Harry and Ron were hovering above her, causing Madame Pomfrey to threaten to kick them out herself if they didn't get enough away for her to do her job. They both moved only enough so they were out of the medi-witch's way, standing at the end of the bed.

The older woman stood above Hermione, running her wand over the bruised and battered girl, tut tutting every now and again, though these scans were far better than those from when she had been first called in. After she had muttered her last incantation, she put her wand back inside her robes. "Well, Miss Granger, all of your vital organs have healed, and your bones are mended, but you still have a good many pulled tendons and a sprained wrist; your whole body will be sore for another week or so. From what I can tell, your vocal chords are not permanently damaged, but I can't give you a timeline for them getting better... it might be next month, but it might be next year or even more. I'm very sorry," she said, her face sincere.

"Oh, Hermione," Ron rushed forward to hug the bed-ridden girl, causing her a gasp of pain and new tears as her entire body tightened. Madame Pomfrey pulled him away by his collar, and if looks could kill, he would have dropped dead.

"Mister Weasley, were you not listening to a word I just said? Miss Granger will be in a fair amount of pain for quite some time. If I give her pain potions for it, the tendons and muscles will not heal properly. Every time you touch her, you will be adding to that pain, so please refrain from touching her in any way unless she needs your help with something."

Ron had the decency to look ashamed, though he looked to Hermione with wet eyes. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I wasn't thinking; I just wanted to comfort you," he said in a raspy whisper, earning him a watery smile.

She looked him in the eye and mouthed the words "Ron, come here," to him as she held her hand a few inches above the bed. He quickly went to her side, Harry close behind him, each pulling up a chair. Seeing that neither boy was going to hurt her, Madame Pomfrey and Bill left the three friends to their own devices.

It was four days before Hermione could get out of bed for anything other than to use the toilet or take a bath, which she positively insisted on, no matter the pain and soreness moving caused. When she arrived at the dinner table that fourth day, Ron and Harry made a fuss over how she should go back to her bed, but Fleur understood that she wasn't going anywhere and quickly helped her to a seat as Bill fixed up her place setting, though she was still only allowed to eat foods that she could easily swallow, as most things hurt her throat on the way down.

Over the coming weeks, she improved little by little, though she was beginning to think that she would never be one hundred percent comfortable in her own skin again. Most of the soreness had gone away, but weird things would set it off and she would have to lie down for a few hours, as she was still under orders to not take any pain potions. Eventually she was able to eat properly without much problem, but she still could not manage even a faint whisper, though there were times she was quite happy about that fact.

She found that every time she was asked a direct question she was compelled to answer it fully and truthfully. Not a good thing with all the sensitive information she held. One time she had almost told Bill about the horcruxes, but had burned the paper she had written her response on before he could see it, as she had taken to carrying parchment and a quill with her at all times to make it easier to communicate. After speaking with a few members of the Order, including Professor McGonagall, they had come to the conclusion that answering questions truthfully was the main intent of the spell that had damaged her so badly, as Bellatrix had been trying to get information out of her at the time.

She sat in on Harry and Ron's conversations with Griphook, giving her input when necessary. Eventually they came to a plan and felt ready to implement it. After talking it through, the three of them came to the decision that Hermione would not be going with them, but rather to a safehouse, knowing that Bill and Fleur would be active in the Order and wanting to be sure that she would not be found. Not only were they afraid for her physical safety, but they were afraid what could happen if she were captured again and forced to give information since they knew that even though she could not talk, she would still be able to give away their secrets and not be able to stop herself.

And so the night before her boys were planning to put their great bank heist plan into motion, it was with a heavy heart that she hugged Ron goodbye. Harry was taking the portkey with her to the safehouse, as the Order had decided that the best place to put her was with the Dursley's. He had been a bit put out at this decision, but the three of them all understood that it probably was the safest of all the safehouses.

They each had a hold of the pencil that would transport them, and with a jerk behind the naval, they were gone. Neither having gotten the hang of portkeys yet, they both fell to the ground at their destination, Harry catching himself with his arms. Hermione tried to do the same, but instead her arms gave way, allowing her to fall against the hardwood floor, her head slamming hard into the hardwood floor with a bounce, blood pooling around her.

"Hermione? Hermione!" Harry called out, quickly crawling over to her. Hearing the disturbance, the Dursley's ran into the entryway, led by Petunia. When they got to the room, it was to see Harry healing the small cut on her forehead with a spell Hermione herself had taught him before he vanished the blood, and even in his panicked state he wondered how so much blood could come from such a small cut.

He knelt there, crouched over her, calling her name over and over again, and when she didn't respond to a persistent light tapping at her cheek, he cast Aguamenti over her face. The flowing water did its job, and she opened her eyes with a silent moan. He spelled her dry and lightly caressed her cheek as he looked down on her. "Hermione, I'm sorry, I should have gotten in the way or something," he told her, and even in her current condition she rolled her eyes at him.

His family silently looked down upon the spectacle in the hallway of the home they had been living in, Harry not even noticing their presence. "Are you hurt anywhere other than your head?" he asked.

She looked thoughtful for a moment through a grimace as she moved her limbs slightly, as though trying out the muscles. "Sore," she mouthed to him. Then she moved the hand that had just finished healing from her sprained wrist. She winced and held the hand in front of her face, the wrist already swelling back up. "I think I sprained it again."

He had gotten used to reading her lips, and so long as she kept her sentences short, he had no problem knowing what she was saying. "Okay, let's get you to a couch or something, then I'll see what we can do, okay?" She nodded her head and tried to sit up, only to lay back down for the dizziness.

"You wouldn't want me to levitate you there would you?" he asked with a promising smile, knowing she would turn him down.

It was when she glared at him and shook her head slightly that the two were alerted to the presence of the three other people. "I can carry her to the couch," Dudley offered.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a surprised glance, and when she gave a small nod of her head, Harry turned to his cousin. "Thank you, Dudley. Just be really careful, I'm sure the hard landing hurt her more than she wants me to know." Hermione gave him a dirty look that clearly said his suspicions were right as Dudley lifted her off of the floor, carrying her bridal style to the couch in the living room.

He set her down gingerly and moved to a large chair that was nearby, giving Harry room to kneel next to her. "Aunt Petunia, would you please be able to find me some ice, an ace bandage, and some aspirin?" She looked at him for a moment, then decided to do as he had asked. "Hermione, how do I tell if you have a concussion?" he asked her, receiving a look that told him he was an idiot.

"I can tell you if she has a concussion," Dudley offered.

"Really? How do you know?"

"Potter, I'm a boxer. We learn these things. I can also wrap up her wrist and ice it properly."

"Thanks," Harry breathed, oblivious to the look in Dudley's eyes that said he was looking at more than just Hermione's wrist. Harry moved out of the way for his cousin to kneel next to his best friend. He brought his hand up to her face, gently covering one eye, then the other, looking intently at the response.

"Her eyes dilate properly, so she doesn't have a concussion," came the diagnosis, causing both Harry and Hermione to sigh in relief. Vernon was sitting in his very large chair, taking up every centimeter of room it offered and watching the goings on with a glare on his face. He had been in a horrible mood for the last week when they had been told that one of his nephew's friends would be taking up residence with them. They had gotten lucky, and the freaks who had brought them to the house only came and checked in with them every few days; now they were going to be saddled with a freak who looked to be hurt. As far as he was concerned, she had better not expect them to wait on her.

Petunia came back into the room then, her eyes widening just the slightest bit when she saw that her Diddydums was kneeling next to her nephew's friend and gave him the items Harry had asked for. As Dudley started to wrap Hermione's wrist, causing a few tears from the pain of binding the already inflamed muscles, Harry decided to make introductions. "Hermione, this is Dudley, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, this is Hermione Granger."

Hermione gave them all a watery smile. Vernon frowned at her, and Petunia sniffed, but Dudley looked up into her eyes. "It's nice to meet you, Hermione," he told her.

She smiled back down to him, mouthing the words "Nice to meet you, too," before he went back to wrapping the bandage and showing her how to hold the ice on it properly and explaining how often and for how long she would have to ice it.

"Doesn't your friend talk?" asked Vernon condescendingly.

Harry looked down to Hermione, who smiled at him and nodded her head, giving him permission to tell what had happened to her. Meeting Vernon's eyes he responded. "Not right now she doesn't. A few weeks ago one of the Death Eaters tortured her for information and she wouldn't give it up. Madame Pomfrey says there's nothing wrong with her, but we think she may have suffered some nerve damage, and whether it be from the spell or just how much she was screaming, her vocal chords have ruptured. If she tries to talk using her voice, it causes her a lot of pain. She should be able to talk again someday, but we have no idea how long it will be."

"Tell me something, boy. What makes you think they won't track her here if they want to try and get other information from her?"

"She didn't give them anything before," Harry said coldly. "Of course they are looking for her. She didn't show up at the Ministry to be questioned about her parentage, she has now escaped from the clutches of the Death Eaters, and her last known whereabouts were consorting with 'Undesirable Number One'. But that, Uncle Vernon, is the point of a safehouse. They can't find her here."

As Harry spoke, he had stood up and walked over to his uncle, towering above the sitting man, twirling Draco Malfoy's wand between his fingers. "If you do anything to hurt my friend, or make her feel uncomfortable in the slightest, you will regret it. That goes for all of you. Am I clear?" he asked, using the hardest voice Hermione had ever heard come out of him.

"Y... yes," Vernon stuttered, his wide eyes never leaving Harry's wand. Petunia had turned a ghostly white and sat down on the couch, her hand fluttering over her heart. Dudley, though, just continued helping Hermione.

"Good. Also, Hermione will be using magic. She is of legal age to do so, and as we're not in school anymore, she has no fear of being kicked out, so don't think of trying to threaten her about it. Besides, she wouldn't do anything to hurt you with it, anyway. She's a good person like that."

Harry then turned, walking back to his cousin and his friend. "Dudley, would you be able to show us to Hermione's room? I have things to do, but I'm not leaving until I know she's settled in."

Dudley nodded his agreement. When they made it back into the hall, Harry knelt down to pick up Hermione's purse that now contained all of her things, having placed the same charms onto Harry's rucksack so he and Ron would be sure to have everything they needed. Hermione and Harry followed him up a flight of stairs, listening as he pointed out the loo, his room, and his parents room before coming to the last room on the floor, directly next to his own.

"This will be your room," he said, looking at Hermione as he opened the door and held it open like a gentleman. It was the smallest room in the house, but it was still a decent size. Everything in the room was pure bright white, from the walls and the bedding to the furniture and the flowers.

She turned to Dudley and gave him a small hug, mouthing the words 'thank you,' motioning to the room and to her wrist.

"You're welcome, Hermione," he replied with a small smile before leaving the other two alone.

They stood there, just looking at each other for a long moment, before she pulled out a piece of parchment from her bag and handed it over to him. There was only one sentence on it, but he read it and looked up at her, smiling through the tears in his that were threatening to spill over. If you die, I'll find the stone and bring you back so I can kill you myself.

He pulled her into a hug, kissing her softly on the temple. "I love you, Hermione. You are a wonderful friend," he whispered to her before pulling away to see that her tears were spilling freely down her cheeks. Not giving her a chance to do or say anything back, he turned and quickly left the room so she could settle in and possibly take a nap. He planned on having one more talk with his relatives without Hermione there, and then he would be off.

Chapter End Notes:

**** using the the english to latin dictionary, adflictatio - onis means pain as in torture and veritas - atis means truthful, to speak the truth. and the information on how to tell a concussion and how to take care of a sprain comes from mistress malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

Four hours later, Hermione was woken up with a shake to her shoulder. She sat upright, pulling her wand from under her pillow and pointing it at the intruder as she blinked into the brightness of the room.

"Hermione, it's only me, Dudley. I've come with ice for your wrist to help with the swelling. I knocked on the door and called your name, but you wouldn't wake up," came a cautious voice.

She paused for a few seconds before putting her wand back where she had had it. By the time she turned back to him, mouthing the word "sorry," her eyes had completely adjusted to the light.

"It's okay," he reassured her. "May I sit down?" he asked, motioning to her bed with the ice wrap he was holding. She looked at him a moment, trying not to be obvious in the fact that she was effectively giving him the once-over. As Harry hadn't really found any reason to describe his cousin to her over the last few years, she had been expecting him to look like a rotund pig, much like his father. Instead, she was looking at a young man with a physique that attested to his status as the top-ranked boxer at Smeltings.

He was already ready for bed in lounge pants and a navy tshirt, but she could tell that his six-foot even frame would be considered solid. He may have had a layer of fat over his stomach, but he was mostly muscle with a broad chest and shoulders. While his biceps were large, she found herself happy with the fact that they weren't so muscular that they looked flexed even when they weren't - he would have no problems crossing his arms in front of his chest. His hands were large, and a light pink tinge graced her features as she wondered if it was a sign of other parts of his anatomy.

Looking at his face, he was an average-looking man; not gorgeous, but definitely not ugly either. His blond hair was no longer kept plastered to his head, instead it was cut so that it fell down to his ears. His eyes were a bright blue, drawing attention away from his crooked nose. When his mouth opened to talk, she could see that while his teeth were not perfectly straight, they weren't a disfigurement, either. She was just surprised that he still had all of them. In fact, to her opinion, his only physical feature that detracted from the rest of him was his thick neck, though at least it wasn't quite as wide as his head.

He cleared his throat and she blushed even deeper as she realized that she had been staring. In response to his question, she also motioned to the bed with a slight nod of the head and a few seconds later she felt the bed dip as he sat down next to her. He looked over to her with a smile, pulling her bandaged wrist so it was sitting on his cross-legged lap, wrapping the ice around it.

She cringed at the coldness of it. Looking up at his face, she held out her other hand and pointed to her pillow to warn him that she was going to get her wand. He didn't seem to understand until she actually moved towards it, her wrist still in his lap. He looked a little wary, but became relieved soon enough when she aimed towards the bureau on the other side of the room and a notebook and pen flew into her awaiting hand.

"What time is it?" she wrote in a neat scrawl.

"Just after midnight," he answered, impressed that her magic had helped make things easier for her when she couldn't get up at the moment.

While he was not stupid enough to mention the word "magic" to his parents, even in this past year in the safehouse with various witches and wizards popping in to check on them, Dudley had started to come to the notion that magic wasn't inherently bad. Sure his parents, especially his father, would go on for hours about how magic was the root of all the bad things to ever befall them, but the more and more he thought on it, the more he tended to think they were just being prejudiced and not wanting to take responsibility for their own actions.

"So, Potter said that you were probably hurt from your fall more than you would want to let on. Is there anything I can do to help? Do you want any aspirin or anything?" Dudley asked, trying to fill what he considered to be an awkward silence.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and shook her head in response before writing down her actual answer. "No, thanks, I'm fine. Please stop referring to your cousin as 'Potter.' He does have a first name, you know," she wrote, giving him an indignant look to go along with the words.

Reading it, Dudley had the grace to blush ever so slightly as he looked her in the eye. "I'm sorry, it's just habit. When I was little I used to dislike Po - Harry just because my parents did and I thought that if neither of them liked him there must be a good reason. My parents, especially my dad, always bullied him around and that's the behavior I learned was acceptable. And so I became the school bully and I pretty much stayed that way until a couple of years ago when that Demented thingy attacked me."

Hermione touched his arm to get his attention as she wrote down a question she had been wondering about ever since she had heard of Dudley's reaction to the Dementor attack at Little Whinging. "What did they make you see?"

He looked up at her, as though debating with himself whether or not he should tell her. "Po - Harry says that they're supposed to make you relive and dwell on all your unhappy memories because they take away all the good ones. I don't know if it's because I'm not a w-wizard or what, but that's not really what happened to me. It was the very first glimpse I ever had of the spoiled, fat little bastard that I was. I saw how I treated him and what I actually looked like through his eyes. Up until that time, I had somehow believed everything my parents said about how great I was. I saw all that, and I realized that I wasn't the person I wanted to be."

"I'm sorry," she mouthed to him, her hand running up and down his arm in a consoling gesture.

"Don't be," he responded, smiling wanly over to her. "It was the reality check that I needed. I started to actually adhere to the diet that the school nurse had put me on, and I began exercising, even if it was only a little bit at first. When I went back to school, I joined the boxing club and paid more attention to my studies. As time went by and I didn't want to continue bullying everyone else, I stopped hanging out with my mates because they still thought it was fun times and that I was the one missing out. A few months before school let out last year, Piers finally came to his senses and we became mates again, but then last July we came here and have been stuck here ever since. Every couple of days someone comes by to check on us, but there's not really anyone to talk to other than my parents. I'm just happy that I have my weights and there's a telly so we know what's going on everywhere, otherwise I'm sure I would have gone mad by now. I've even started reading some of the books I've found around here."

"We weren't really in a place to get news on a regular basis until the past few weeks," Hermione wrote. "And then, most of our news had to do with the wizarding world. It's really not safe out there, but especially for those of us opposing him. Harry's number one on their most wanted list and I'm right up there with him because not only have I been known as being with him, but I never showed up to be registered as a muggleborn."

"You're known as being with Harry? But he said you were his best friend, not his girlfriend," Dudley observed, the obvious connotations to the thought going right over Hermione's head.

"Oh, gods, ew! No. Harry has only ever been my friend. A few years ago a tabloid reporter had a large following of people in saying that it was more than that and I was stomping over his feelings, but there was no basis for the story. But the mass public believes what they want to believe."

When Dudley had finished reading her response, he looked up at her, his face a mixture of shock and confusion. "Why would the tabloids care?" he asked.

It was her turn to look at him with wonder. "You mean you really don't know how famous Harry is?"

"I know that the people who come here practically worship him, but my parents put a stop to any real conversation about it."

Hermione picked up her wand and summoned her purse to her, pulling out a book entitled "The Rise And Fall Of He Who Must Not Be Named." Opening it to one of the last chapters, she plopped the book on Dudley's lap, though she left her wrist where it was, neither realizing that the twenty minutes of icing time had come and gone a few minutes previous. Dudley flipped to the cover, reading the title of the book. "Can I borrow this and read it later?" he asked, causing her to beam up at him.

The look on her face, so obviously happy because of something he had said, was a first for Dudley. He had been with a few girls at school; as one of the school's top athletes he hadn't had to go looking far for female company. No girl, though, had looked at him as though he had made their day for something so simple and he found it rather disarming. He looked down, avoiding her gaze in his slight discomfort, only to be reminded that it was time to take away the ice.

Not having a further excuse to stay and talk, he insisted she set the alarm next to her bed to go off in another four hours and left the room, book in hand, softly closing the door behind him. His mind was racing; he was slightly put off by his reaction to the witch, having just met her less than six hours previous. He tried to chalk it all up to the fact that she was the first female his age he had been around in almost a year, but deep down he knew that there was just something about her in particular that made him want to help her and make her happy.

Laying in his bed, he tossed and turned for a full forty-five minutes, trying to push the thoughts of the girl sleeping in the room next to him out of his head. Eventually he gave up and pulled out the book she had lent him, opening it up to the chapter on his cousin. Dudley was surprised to find that even he was mentioned by name, just for living with the Boy Who Lived. When he had finished the chapter, he fell asleep instantly despite how full his brain still was with all of his new revelations.

When Dudley had left her room, Hermione was surprised to find herself almost lonely without his company. She hadn't had a conversation about anything other than bank heist plans, details for the war or helping Fleur around the house in so long, and their talk had been more than welcome. She had also enjoyed learning more about Dudley, especially about how and why he had turned his life around from the overzealous bully that she had heard of for the past many years. She could see that he really had changed, mind, body, and soul, and this was only her first time meeting him.

As she tried to fall asleep, her thoughts flitted from one to another, never staying on only one, but always coming back like a cd set to repeat. Her brain was full from worrying about Harry and Ron in the coming day, as well as contemplating the thought of trying to get along with Petunia and Vernon Dursley, though even above all these thoughts were her unspoken fears surrounding her parents. She still believed they were much safer, but while on one hand she hoped they were having a wonderful time in Australia, on the other hand, she desperately wished she had messed up on the memory modification and that they were wondering where their daughter was and that they were missing her. It was with these thoughts that she fell asleep, morphing into nightmares filled with her parents in Malfoy Manor, watching as unbiased individuals while Bellatrix Lestrange tortured her to within an inch of her life, only to be pulled away by Dobby just as her alarm went off, waking her up.

Chapter End Notes:

*the description of dudleys muscles and the crossing of the arms comes from laurell k hamilton's merry gentry series.


	3. Chapter 3

Within five minutes she only remembered shards of her dreams, but it was enough to know that the dreams were not pleasant. Getting up, she went downstairs to the kitchen where she made herself an icepack to bring back up to her room. Keeping the ice on her wrist, she busied herself with reading. She hadn't told Harry or Ron, but she had purchased all of the books she would have needed for the year, having asked Professor McGonagall what books would be called for. She would be damned if she let herself slip in her education; she still wanted to pass her N.E.W.T.'s, after all. When the twenty minutes was up, she brought the icepack to the bathroom, leaving the ice in the sink to melt and the plastic bag went into the trash. The towel she had wrapped around the whole thing came with her to her room though, ready to be used in another four hours.

She fell back asleep rather quickly, waking up another two hours later feeling relatively well rested, as well as much better from the fall. In fact, the only part of her that was sore at the moment was her wrist, and even that wasn't so bad. Glancing over to the clock, she saw that it was six-thirty in the morning. Deciding that she was up for the day, she made a trip to the bathroom before descending the stairs in her pajamas.

Finding that no one else was up yet, she decided to make a nice breakfast for everyone. After going through the pantry, she decided on blueberry pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. She had just finished cooking and was preparing a plate for herself when Petunia walked into the room, dressed for the day as though she were expecting to go out rather than just hang out in the safe house all day. The woman stopped dead in her tracks at the sight in front of her. "You did this?" she asked, a slightly condescending tone to her voice.

Hermione nodded her head, smiling in response. "Did you use m-m-magic on this food?" came the suspicious question.

Hermione shook her head, looking affronted. Instead of sitting down to eat, she set her plate on the table, grabbing the notepad she had brought downstairs with her. "My parents are Muggles, and that's how I was raised. My mum taught me how to cook a great many dishes while I was home from school. She's a dentist, but cooking is her passion." There was no way that she was going to reveal she had placed a Warming Charm on the food. If she did, she didn't think the food would get eaten, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with it.

"In that case, thank you, Hermione." Petunia sniffed.

"You're welcome," Hermione replied, sitting down to eat her food and placing the notepad off to the side. By the time she was done eating, both Dursley men had come downstairs, Vernon wearing dress slacks and a button down shirt. It seemed that after so long of being stuck in the house, he still dressed for work every day. Dudley, however, was still wearing his pajamas from the night before.

Hermione excused herself, cleaning up her dishes and going upstairs to take a hot shower, letting the water massage her muscles. After changing into jeans and a t-shirt, she tucked her wand into her inner pants holster and grabbed her purse. As she walked through the house, she found Dudley lifting weights in his bedroom while his parents were both watching telly in the lounge. She passed them by, settling onto a couch in the den with her school work.

It was when Hermione heard the crack of Apparation coming from the kitchen that she was roused from her studies half an hour later. She quickly grabbed up her notepad and ran towards the sound, passing a disgruntled Vernon and embarrassed looking Petunia in the lounge. When she arrived in the kitchen she immediately flung herself into the arms of Remus Lupin, giving her former professor a tight hug. "Hi Remus! How are Teddy and Tonks?" she wrote, pulling away.

"Good; they're good. We've been staying with Andromeda. I was sorry to hear about your voice," he told her.

She shrugged off his concern and gave him a 'what can you do?' face.

By this time, Vernon had made his way into the room, looking at Remus as though he had smelled something rather foul. "We're all here and alive. There's no need for you to stay," he told the wizard rather rudely.

Hermione spun around, glaring at the rotund man. "No," she mouthed, her eyes cold with the stern tone that her voice would have been.

Remus touched his hand to her shoulder, stopping her from doing anything further. "It's okay, Hermione. Mr. Dursley, you know as well as I do that I will not be leaving until I see both your wife and your son. Not to mention that I was in the middle of a conversation."

At the word 'conversation', Hermione had a sudden thought and wrote furiously on her notepad. "Hey, Romulus, would you happen to know the next password to Potterwatch? And would I be able to turn it on without speaking?" She shoved the notebook under Remus' face, taking him away from his staring contest with Vernon.

He stared blankly at the page for a moment, blinking as the words seeped into his brain. "You've listened to Potterwatch?" he asked, his voice soft.

"We were only able to get it in once. Remus, Harry feels really guilty about what he said to you. He was right, but he was very harsh."

Remus sighed, pulling out a chair at the small, round table and dropping into it. "Harry has nothing to feel guilty about. Yes, he may have been harsh, but if he hadn't I wouldn't have listened to him. If it hadn't been for Harry, I would have kept avoiding Dora, and I wouldn't have had the past few months with her; I would have just been sulking to myself. I wouldn't have been there for Teddy's birth. In fact, I am grateful to Harry for saying what he said. Now, do you want to see a picture?" he asked, ignoring the tears that had appeared in each of their eyes.

Petunia and Dudley had each arrived in the kitchen by the end of Remus' heartfelt speech, Petunia having gathered Dudley, knowing that whatever witch or wizard that had shown up would not leave until they had seen every member of the household. Petunia looked gobsmacked at the idea of anyone being grateful to her nephew, while Vernon was turning a nice shade of beet red. Dudley, on the other hand, looked as though it were business as usual, with no feelings either way. Remus pulled out a wizarding photograph and handed it over to Hermione. The tiny baby had a tuft of bright turquoise hair and was waving his fat little fists at the camera.

"Oh, Remus, he is so cute! Metamorphmagus?" she mouthed with a smile. When he nodded his head, her smile slipped just a little. "Werewolf?"

"Nope," he replied happily, a grin across his face. In response, Hermione gave him another hug, her face just as happy as his own.

Petunia, being nosy as usual, stuck her head over to get a glimpse at the photo she suspected would move. However, she was not anticipating the baby in the photo. "He has blue hair!" she gasped, mortified as she glanced over to Dudley, thinking on what would have happened if he had been born with blue hair.

"Yes. He's a metamorphmagus like his mother. It means that they can change their appearance at will, though Teddy's too young to control it," he explained proudly.

"Cute kid," Dudley commented, also taking a peek at the photo, having gotten curious from the discussion. Petunia glared at them as though they had made her son betray her.

"Thanks," Remus replied. Before he could continue, Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face to turn his attention back to her. He looked at her blankly for a moment, but before she could mouth or write what she wanted to say, he remembered the original question. "Oh, right. Potterwatch. Hermione, I'm not a hundred percent sure, but you are quite good at wordless magic, so I would think you could. The next password is 'Fawkes.' I'm not sure on the time yet, but I do know Lee is planning on doing a show today."

"Fantastic!" she mouthed.

As soon as Remus had left, Hermione made her way back to the den, but instead of going back to work, she got her Wizarding Wireless out of her purse, fiddling with the buttons and tapping it with her wand as she focused on the password. After taking a shower, Dudley came down to join her, wearing slightly baggy jeans and a black t-shirt, his hair damp. He couldn't help but smile at the look of concentration on her face as she worried her bottom lip.

After a half hour of trying, the familiar voice of Lee Jordan could be heard through the airwaves. "And for those just joining this surprise edition of Potterwatch, we are here to report a confirmed Harry Potter sighting."

"Oh, shite," Hermione mouthed, sitting down, her hands wringing themselves as she stared intently at the wireless. Dudley sat next to her and took a hold of her hand, partly to comfort her and partly to stop her from aggravating her injury.

"Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, who has apparently made a miraculous recovery from a severe case of spattergroit, were seen by wizards and Muggles alike this morning fleeing Gringott's on the back of a dragon after allegedly breaking into a high-security vault. While we at Potterwatch know which vault is in question, we feel that it is information that is best not shared, in case it hampers Harry's cause in any way. Stay tuned to Potterwatch for future Harry Potter sightings. This evening we will have our regularly scheduled program and the password is still 'Fawkes.' This is River, signing off."

Dudley had sat there watching Hermione throughout the short broadcast and had become worried as she started to tremble and rock back and forth slightly, seemingly mouthing the same phrase over and over again, though he couldn't make out what that phrase was. Feeling at a loss to help with anything, he pulled her into his lap, holding her still as he pet her hair in a comforting motion. "Everything will be fine, Hermione. P-Harry can take care of himself."

Hermione looked at him for a moment before climbing off his lap and walking over to where she had left her notepad, scribbling in it furiously as she paced before dropping it onto his lap. "You don't understand. Now You-Know-Who knows what they're doing, and he'll go after them, but they don't have enough information to finish the job they're doing, and if they don't finish it, then he can't die," he read.

"First off, none of that makes any sense. Secondly, I'm sure they'll figure it all out. Is this guy really going to come after them for breaking into a vault?"

She nodded her head profusely as she held out her hand for her notepad. "He doesn't need an excuse, haven't I explained it already? Harry's the only one who can kill him, so he's looking for Harry no matter what. If they got what was in that vault, then he has even more reason. To kill them, and anyone they hold dear. It's how he works."

"Then I guess it's good that you're here and not with them," Dudley commented, only to be the target of her withering gaze.

Hermione spent most of the day trying to stay occupied, trying out the wireless every now and again to see if there had been any updates. For a couple of hours in the afternoon, her mind had been completely occupied as Dudley taught her the basics of boxing, though he wouldn't let her hit anything with her hurt hand. He also made sure she was continuing to ice it. When it came time for dinner, she helped Petunia prepare the meal. She could tell that the woman was warming slightly to her, having put in an effort to use little to no magic in front of either her or Vernon. She was also pretty sure she had surprised the woman with her Muggle cooking abilities, no matter what she had told her earlier.

After a relatively amiable dinner, Hermione went back to the den with the wireless. Dudley came with her, but he reclined back in a chair with one of Hermione's books in his hands. It took her an hour and a half before she was able to tune Potterwatch back in, and when she did she clapped her hands and hugged the wireless to her.

"And one of the newest rumors we've heard is that the head Death Eater, You-Know-Who himself, can be in more than one location at once, thus helping him to order the deaths of more people and destruction of more property. I'm here to tell you that all of the time turners held within the Ministry were destroyed two years ago, coincidentally only an hour or so before he made his reappearance public. If he did have a time turner, I, for one, highly doubt it would make all that much difference in the amount of mayhem going around the country."

"I agree with Rapier. Everyone needs to just calm down a bit. Panic never works out in the long run, especially if it has to do with things out of our control. So if everyone just keeps to themselves and their closest friends, there will be a lot less to worry about."

"Well said, Romulus."

"Thank you, River."

"And now to Royal. Oh, hold on one second, everyone." There was the sounds of people moving and shouting for a minute before Lee got back on. At this point, Hermione was worrying the bottom of her lip and Dudley had moved to sit on the arm of the chair she was in, looking at her worriedly.

"Sorry for the interruption, everyone, but my sources have just informed me that Harry Potter is allegedly at Hogwart's and the Death Eaters are on their way to meet him, so those of us here at Potterwatch are going to be on our way to give those Death Eaters the fight of their lives. To everyone with children at the school, trust in the professors of Hogwarts who are loyal in their fight against You-Know-Who to keep your children safe. Also, anyone who feels compelled to help in the fight, a reminder that Hogsmeade's curfew is in effect and every known way into Hogwart's is probably being watched, so please err on the side of caution. We don't want anyone getting themselves hurt or killed because they forgot such simple things. Potterwatch will be back as soon as possible, and once again, the password for the day is 'Fawkes.'"

That said, the air went dead and Hermione was tempted to throw the wireless, but instead contented herself with placing it on a side table and grasping her bag, wand in hand. Dudley reached out for her, holding her in a tight bear hug as she struggled to get away. "You heard what that River guy said. You can't get there without getting caught. I'm not going to let you go and get yourself killed."

She continued struggling for a bit but it became obvious that he would hold her there all night if he had to, she stopped fighting. Just as he was about to let go of her, she suddenly burst out crying in her feeling of helplessness, wrapping her arms around his neck. He picked her up and carried her over to the sofa, where he sat her down next to him, but as she cried harder and harder, she ended up like a small child, sitting in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck and crying on his shoulder. He felt highly awkward, but he just kept his arms around her, his hands rubbing circles on her back. When she finally calmed down, he found that she had cried herself to sleep on his lap. Not knowing what else to do, he sat back and let her sleep on him, eventually falling asleep himself.

It was a full three hours before she woke back up. When she did, she looked around at her surroundings, the evening's events rushing back to her. She was still on Dudley's lap, his arms wrapped around her. She momentarily mused that she should have felt more uncomfortable in the position, having just met him and all, but she actually felt safe and secure. She gently removed herself from his grasp, careful to not wake him up. After using the loo, she came down the stairs only to be accosted by Vernon. "Missy, I don't know what m-m-magic you're using on my son, but I suggest you stop it. He is perfectly fine without the likes of you."

Hermione stood there, confused for a moment, as she tried to figure out where this sudden outburst had come from. After a moment, it occurred to her that he must have walked into the den while they were sleeping. She rolled her eyes and held out her hand, Accioing her notepad and pen from the other room. "Mr. Dursley, your concern for your son is rather sweet, but I haven't used any magic on him. As it happens, I like being in Dudley's company. But I have to go and try to make the radio work in hopes that none of my friends have died in the fight tonight."

She gave him just enough time to read the paper before taking it back and leaving for the den. When she got there she found that Dudley was just waking up. She sat down on the couch, notepad in hand. "I'm sorry about crying all over you and falling asleep."

"Don't worry about it," he told her. She stayed there, fidgeting in her seat for a moment before he rolled his eyes at her. "Hermione, just go get your radio." She gave him a brilliant smile before getting up and gathering the wireless in her arms.

It was three in the morning before Potterwatch came back on. Hermione was sitting on a chair, her legs crossed, and Dudley was stretched out asleep on the couch, not wanting to leave her alone. At the first sounds of the program she poked him awake and he sleepily sat up while she sat down next to him.

"Attention all Potterwatch listeners who are up so early in the morning," came Lee Jordan's bone-weary voice. "Early this morning in the Great Hall at Hogwart's, Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who and has personally assured me that there is no chance of him coming back to life again. That was the good news. Now for the bad news. Scores of witches, wizards, and students have died tonight, with casualties on either side. I am going to read a list of those who have already been identified, starting with Potterwatch's own Rapier, or Fred Weasley, and Romulus, or Remus Lupin and his wife, Nymphadora Lupin, formerly Tonks."

Hermione didn't hear any more of the list, having fallen against Dudley in a dead faint.

Chapter End Notes:

End note….. The description of Teddy in the photograph comes straight from the book, page 605 American edition.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione came to while laying on the couch, Dudley's worried face taking up her entire vision. "Dudley?" she mouthed.

"Hermione," he responded, moving to the side, relief evident in his voice.

As she tried to figure out how she had gotten to the couch, the night's events flooded back to her. She sat up and found herself dizzy from the movement. She reached out her hand and before she could use magic, Dudley had placed her notepad in her hand, the pen connected to it by the cap. She gave him a warm smile before turning her head down to write. "Will you please help me up to my room?"

"Of course," he responded, placing the notepad and pen in the deep back pocket of his pants. He then took a hold of one of her hands, a jolt going through him as she grasped onto his shoulder to steady herself through her next bout of dizziness. Once it had passed, she loosened her grip on him and he slipped his arm around her back, resting his hand on the curve of her waist as her arm draped around his shoulder.

"You ready?" he asked. At her nod they started their way through the house, both of them trying to be quiet as his parents were asleep, stopping every now and again for her to catch her balance. When he offered to carry her the rest of the way, she resolutely shook her head at him, a cute determined look crossing her tear-stained face.

When he reached her doorway he glanced into her room. "Do you need help getting to your bed?" She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. She held out her hand and he gave her her notepad. "Okay. If you need me for anything; a shoulder to cry on, to just be in the room, to have a long in-depth conversation that includes me using a dictionary, anything at all, really, just let me know," he told her earnestly before letting go of her.

She just stood there looking at him for a moment before turning to her notepad. "Thank you very much for the offer, but I've already been leaning on you too much for support and I've just met you. I really just need to be by myself right now." After he read it, she placed the notepad on the top of the bureau that was next to the door. Before he could turn and leave she pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his cheek before pulling away and going into her room, closing the door behind her. Alone in the hallway, Dudley put his hand to his cheek and went to his own room, dazed and aroused from the feel of her body pressed against his own.

The next day Hermione refused to come out of her room for any reason other than to shower or use the toilet. Dudley brought her her meals, and she thanked him, but there was an overwhelming sadness to her. She didn't let him in the room, but he could see photos spread over her duvet.

It was when she didn't come downstairs for dinner that Vernon felt the need to comment, starting by mumbling under his breath so no one could hear him and working his way up to his normal tone that was set aside for complaining. "…rude girl. Petunia's gone to all the effort to cook enough so she can eat and the freak can't even be bothered to come down and eat like a civilized person-"

He was stopped by the sudden loudness of Dudley's fist hitting the wooden table, causing the plates and silverware to rattle and a little bit of water to slosh over the side of the vase that held flowers in the center. He stood up, glaring down at his father. When he spoke, his voice was a calm icy tone that neither parent had ever heard come from their Dudders.

"Do not refer to her as a freak. In fact, I would like it if you would stop referring to anyone, whoever they are, as a freak. She is not being rude staying shut up in her room. She is grieving. According to her magical radio," he stressed the word 'magical', watching his father's face become more purple and his mother's more white, "last night Harry killed You-Know-Who, but a lot of her friends were killed as well, including Mister Lupin, who was here yesterday, and his wife."

He couldn't have gotten two more different reactions from them even if he had tried. His mother's reaction surprised him, while his father's was exactly what he had expected.

"That poor blue-haired baby!" Petunia gasped, clutching her hand to her heart. "And Hermione, what she must be going through. I'm going to bring her some tea." As soon as she said it, the woman was up and at the stove setting the kettle, wishing for the electric one she had at home.

Vernon, meanwhile, stood up and pointed his sausage-like finger at his son. "I will not have my own son speak to me in such a manner, especially not over a f-" at Dudley's murderous glare, he changed mid-word, "-w-witch. If Potter's killed this-this-whatever his name is, then where is he and why are we still here and not at home?" he demanded, becoming angrier with every word he spoke as he continued. "And if there are a few less of that lot around, then frankly I'm quite happy. I didn't rather like that Lupin anyw-"

This time he was not cut off by a look from Dudley rather than the boys' fist connecting with his face, dropping the whale of a man to the floor.

"Dudders!" Petunia screeched, dropping the box of tea she had just pulled from a cabinet. Dudley just stood there, completely shocked that he had hit his father protecting the honor of a dead wizard.

This is the scene Harry and Professor McGonagall Apparated into.

Vernon scrambled up onto his feet and pushed Dudley out of his way while giving him a look that said clearly that this wasn't over. "So when do we get to go home," he boomed out without so much as a 'hello'.

Harry and McGonagall exchanged a quick look before she took the reins. "We're not quite sure, Mr. Dursley, but it will still be a bit of time."

"He did kill the person you were hiding us from, didn't he?" Vernon asked belligerently, pointing at Harry.

"Yes, Mr. Dursley, Mr. Potter did defeat You-Know-Who, but we have only caught about half of his supporters, and the ones who are loose wouldn't think twice of killing you to get back at him. It will probably be another month, maybe two, until you can leave here."

"Where's Hermione?" interjected Harry.

"In her room. She wants to be alone at the moment, but for you I'm sure she'll take visitors," Dudley replied, walking to his join his cousin and leave the kitchen.

"What happened in there?" Harry asked once they were safely out of the room.

"Dad made a rude comment about Hermione not coming down for dinner and when I stood up for her he said how happy he was about the deaths of some of 'your lot'," he finger quoted, "and continued on to say that he never liked Mr. Lupin anyway. So I laid him out."

Harry's expression turned from glowering to dumbfounded in the blink of an eye. "You hit your father over the honor of one of my friends? That's violent but rather decent of you, Big D," he said.

"Well, Mr. Lupin was a pretty nice person. And his kid was really cute, too. So his wife is dead too? That really sucks."

"Yeah. I'm Teddy's godfather. We're going to make sure he grows up loved and knowing who his parents are."

"Unlike you."

"Unlike me," Harry agreed. By now they had reached Hermione's door. Dudley knocked loudly on the door, saying, "Hermione, it's me, I brought you something."

The door opened on its own and the two boys walked in to see Hermione curled up in her bed, cocooned in the covers. "Hermione?" Harry said tentatively. She popped her head out and looked up. Upon seeing Harry, her face broke out into a grin and she scrambled to reach him, tripping over her comforter. Before she could hit the floor, though, Dudley caught her and held her while she kicked the comforter away. Both boys had gone for her, but Dudley had gotten there first.

As he looked at the two of them, Harry was amazed. They had only known each other for a couple of days, but he could see that they were quickly developing feelings for each other, even if he wasn't sure they knew it themselves. He had never seen Dudley so attentive to anyone before, and Hermione's eyes lit up when she looked at him. The last time he had seen that, she had been looking at Ron, and it had been quite some time ago. Thinking of Ron, the redhead wasn't going to like this at all, but as far as Harry was concerned, so long as his friend was happy, so was he.

Once she was steady she launched herself at her long-time friend, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight embrace, fresh tears following the tracks that had stained her face. "How are you? How's Ron?" she mouthed when she pulled away.

"We're… alive. I don't really think its hit me yet that You-Know-Who is gone. Everyone's happy about that, but for us at least it's kind of overshadowed by everyone we lost."

"Can't you say his name yet or is it still Taboo? Who died besides Fred, Remus and Tonks?" she asked, having Summoned her notepad. He sighed and rattled off a list of people they had gone to school with or just happened to know after telling her that they weren't sure whether the name was still Taboo or not, so it was better to be safe than sorry with Death Eaters still out and about.

Harry then launched into a detailed account of everything that had transpired over the past couple days, knowing that she wouldn't expect anything less. When he came to the part where he willingly let Voldemort kill him she stood up, walked over, and smacked him upside the head with more force than he would have imagined. "What was that for?" he asked, affronted.

"C'mon, Harry. Even I know the answer to that one," Dudley said, rolling his eyes.

When Harry finished his story there were tears in his eyes as well as Hermione's. Dudley was just amazed at everything his cousin had gone through and still lived to tell the tale. "So when do I get to come back?" she wrote.

"About that," Harry started, pausing at the hooded glare she was giving him. "You see, Hermione, the Order thinks it would be best for you to stay here for a while with Dudley and his parents. They have to stay because we're afraid of retribution to me through them while so many Death Eaters are still loose. You, on the other hand, can't go out in public until the Muggleborn laws and everything are repealed. They figured it would be best for you to stay here where we know you're safe."

"You are not making me happy here, Harry, but I understand. I can still go to the funerals and take my N.E.W.T.'s, though; right?"

"I don't know about the funerals, but let's go downstairs and ask Professor McGonagall."

"Professor McGonagall has been here this whole time and you haven't said anything? Dolt!" she scribbled, leaving the notepad on Harry's lap and racing out of the room.

She skidded into the kitchen where the old woman was seated at the table drinking tea with Petunia, telling her exactly what had happened. Petunia had come to the decision that if the events of the Wizarding world had such bearing on the lives of her family, she should be informed as to what was going on. Vernon was in the lounge, loudly watching telly and pretending he had never heard the word 'magic.'

Professor McGonagall stood up in order to pull Hermione into a firm hug which was returned with just as much enthusiasm before the younger woman went to a drawer and pulled one of the spare notepads that she and Dudley had strategically placed throughout the house. "Harry told me everything about the fight and having to stay here. I was just hoping that I could go to the funerals and take my N.E.W.T.'s"

"I was expecting this question from you," the older woman sighed, glancing to the two teenage boys that had just entered the room. "You are allowed to attend the funerals under glamours to look like you're related to the Weasley's and you will stay with them at all times. As for your N.E.W.T.'s, you'll have to wait a while to take them because you're currently still not allowed to go to school and if you are found your wand will be confiscated and snapped. You can take them once the Muggleborns are officially citizens again, but it's not worth risking your safety before that time."

At this, Hermione looked crestfallen. She was happy that she would be allowed to attend the funerals of her friends, but she had really wanted to take her exams as soon as possible.

"Alright," she wrote as she gave an inaudible sigh. "I guess that gives me more time to study if you can bring me outlines of some sort that tell me what I need to focus on. When are Harry and Ron taking theirs since neither of them are Muggleborns? And when are the funerals? Do we know yet?"

"Yes, I will bring you some study guides. Unlike you, neither Mister Potter nor Mister Weasley spent any time this year on their studies, and so if either of them want a career in the Wizarding world they need to complete their schooling. I am highly recommending they both go back to school next year, assuming that we can restore enough of the castle in a timely manner to hold everyone. It certainly took a beating last night."

Hermione looked over to Harry and he could see her question in her eyes. Opting to answer her before she could write it down, he said, "Yes, we are going back. Mrs. Weasley isn't really giving Ron a choice, and this way not only do I get to finish my education but I get to see Ginny everyday." He was blushing by the time he finished his sentence and she smiled knowingly at him.

Professor McGonagall glanced over to the clock on the wall. "Oh, my, is that the time? I'm sorry, Hermione, but we really must be off. Someone will be here in the next couple of days with your study guides and the details on the funeral arrangements." With that Hermione gave each of them a hug and they disappeared with two loud pops.

Petunia walked over to Hermione, who looked temporarily lost without her friend, and wrapped her arms around the girl in an awkward hug. "I'm sorry about your friends. Would you like some tea?" she asked as she pulled away.

"Ummm… no thank you, Mrs. Dursley, but thank you for offering," Hermione wrote as she shook her head, stunned. This was most certainly not the Aunt Petunia that Harry had always described. "I think I'll just go to the den and read."

"Hermione, would you care to play a game of checkers or something? There's a closet full of board games," Dudley asked, not having read her note. She thought about it for a moment before nodding her head. They ended up playing Mastermind, and she was amazed at how good he was at the game of logic and strategy, though she assumed that it was another side-effect of boxing.


	5. Chapter 5

a/n: thank you to all of the people who have been following and reviewing this story. i am sorry this took so long to update... it was copied from another site i had it posted on, and for the next three chapters my copying came with a green background and black words, making it very hard to read, and for the life of me i couldn't fix it. it turned out all i needed to do was click the clear formatting button, so now i feel like an idiot, but yay i can finally update with them!

The next day, Hermione was still sad but no longer despondent, the visit from Harry having done her a world of good. She wrote letters to Ron and Ginny, as well as one to the entire Weasley family expressing her sorrow over the loss of Fred.

Dudley had spent the morning in his room lifting weights. After lunch, which was made by Hermione and Petunia, he decided to spend the day with her and away from his father. The man had gotten him alone for a few minutes after lunch and proceeded to yell at him about how he was a disappointment, how he had better get his head straight, and if the thought of a repeat of the previous night ever crossed his mind that he would be beyond sorry.

Having overheard Vernon's rant as there was no way around it, Hermione asked Dudley what his father was talking about. When he told her what had happened, she gave him a hug, telling him how much it meant to her. The majority of the afternoon he convinced her to take a break from reading to watch the telly in his room. Even just based on a few of the shows, it surprised Hermione to learn that by spending all but a few weeks a year in the Wizarding world, she knew very little Muggle current events and trends.

After a few hours of the two of them watching the flickering screen while laying side by side on his bed, Hermione fell asleep. When Dudley noticed, he continued watching the program, but not before covering her with a blanket.

Her sleep didn't last long, as it was soon time for dinner. The meal was strained but uneventful and Hermione and Dudley were relieved to get away and go up to her room to read. Technically, she was studying and he was engrossed in a comic book, but they were reading nonetheless. She was going over the section of Concealing Charms when she had a sudden thought and pulled over her notepad to voice it. "Dudley, when you came here, where did you tell everyone you were going?"

"Dad told his work that Mum had been left a rather large house in Austrailia in the will of a long lost uncle under the condition that we live there, so that's what I told the couple of friends that I had kept in contact with over the summer."

"What is going to be your reason for coming back?"

"We're going to say that we lived in it long enough that it was ours, but that it wasn't until then that we learned of all the back taxes. In order to pay them all we had to sell the house as quickly, and therefore cheaply, as possible. And so we came back to England."

"Smart plan."

"Yeah. Your 'Order' came up with it." They ended up spending the rest of the night talking before Dudley reluctantly left for his own room.

The next day went pretty much the same until they sat down cross legged next to each other on Dudley's bed to watch the telly. This time, instead of serialized programs, they tuned into the Manchester United game. When Hermione became confused on some of the technical aspects, having not been exposed to football since before she had gone to Hogwarts, Dudley spent the commercial breaks explaining all of the rules of the game to her, as well as tidbits on both teams and their players.

When he drew her a diagram of a particular play that had just been performed, she leaned into him as she looked at the notepad in his lap. Still confused as to why that had been the play chosen since it had been quite risky, she looped her arm under his and leaned her forearm on his thigh, taking the pen out of his hand and writing down her question.

Dudley turned to her, inadvertently moving her hand so it was resting on his knee instead, and animatedly answered her. He stopped dead when he saw a short, pudgy, red-haired woman who was a bit older than his mum in the doorway out of the corner of his eye. Hermione turned to follow where he was looking, only to find Mrs. Weasley gazing shrewdly at the two teens on the bed.

Hermione smiled at her as she got up, using Dudley as a brace. She walked over and shared a tight hug with her friends' mother. "I'm sorry about Fred," she mouthed as a single tear made its way past her rapidly blinking eyes when she pulled away.

"I know, dear, I know," Mrs. Weasley responded, trying to keep back her own tears while she moved a lock of Hermione's hair behind her ear. She then turned her attention to the other teen, a slightly hostile and protective look coming over her features. "You must be Dudley. I'm Mrs. Weasley. Harry has stayed with my family for the past six summers; I've heard quite a bit about you."

Dudley stood up and shook the proferred hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Weasley. I'm sure you've heard many things about me and I'm sure most are true. I just want you to know that I'm not the spoiled bully that I used to be. I'm sorry for how my family treated - Harry - and I'm glad that he had your family to support him. Also, I'm sorry to hear about your son and your friends. They shouldn't have had to die, but know that there is at least one Muggle who knows and cares about the sacrifice they made to help make the world better for us all. I'll just leave you and Hermione to talk."

He started to leave the room, glancing at Hermione's dumbfounded face, but didn't even make it a step before he was pulled into the tightest hug of his life. When he was finally let go there were tears streaming down the older woman's face. "Thank you very much, Dudley."

When he was gone, Hermione having stared at him the entire time, she picked up her notepad. "I had no idea he could be so eloquent," she wrote of his impromptu speech.

"He seems as though he's grown into a nice young man," Mrs. Weasley commented as her hopes of having Hermione as a daughter-in-law started to ebb away. Thinking of how the two looked at each other despite the fact that she could tell neither could see it, left her slightly sad and let down.

"He has," Hermione mouthed, the smile on her lips reaching her eyes and making them sparkle.

"But as to the reason I am here. We have decided to have a joint funeral for Fred, Remus, and Tonks because they are all being buried at the same graveyard. There will be a service first; Arthur will come to get you and he will help with your glamours. You are to stick with Ginny since if you were a distant cousin you would more likely be most comfortable with her rather than Ron and Harry. Obviously you can be friendly with them, but it must seem as though it is only the first or second time you have ever met Harry."

Hermione nodded her head, sad that she couldn't really help comfort Harry, but understanding the reasons and happy that she was allowed to go at all. "When is it?" she wrote.

"In four days. I believe that will also be the next time someone comes to check on you. I must be going now, though. I'll give your regards to everyone." Hermione nodded and hugged the woman goodbye.

Each day their mornings were spent apart but after lunch they were always in one another's company. They talked, they read, they watched the telly. They also did their best to stay away from Vernon, though Petunia put in some effort to get to know Hermione better, it having become routine for the two women to cook both lunch and dinner together.

The day of the funerals, Arthur showed up bright and early at eight thirty. Vernon stayed away, but both Dudley and Petunia sat at the kitchen table as the older man stood in front of Hermione, casting spells that slowly but surely made her unrecognisable as herself. In fact, if they didn't know any better, they would say the two red-heads were related.

When Hermione and Arthur were preparing to Apparate away, Petunia came over and laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder in a comforting manner. She didn't say anything before leaving the room, but Hermione was touched at the gesture. When her shoulder was freed, Dudley pulled her into a tender hug. When he pulled away from her, he left one hand gently resting on her upper arm, the other smoothing back her long ginger hair as he looked into her blue eyes. He spoke low so Arthur could just barely make out what he was saying. "When you get back, if you don't want to be alone, let me know. I'm here for you."

"I know," she mouthed, pulling him into another quick hug and breaking away hastily when Arthur cleared his throat.

As soon as the two redheads arrived in the Burrow, Hermione was enveloped in many pairs of arms, Ron being the last to pull away. Still having half an hour before leaving, the quartet of Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Ginny secluded themselves in Ron's room. After they didn't stop staring at her for a few minutes, Hermione splayed her hands in the air, a baffled look on her face. "What?" she mouthed.

"Sorry, Hermione, you just look funny as a Weasley is all," Harry told her. They all ignored the way Ron's face burned red at the innocent comment. They sat on the bed, the boys listening as the two girls spent most of the time catching up on the year. Ginny was dying to hear about Dudley, whom Hermione had mentioned in her letter, but not knowing any specifics, she didn't want to bring up the subject in front of her brother.

It seemed like no time had passed at all before Mrs. Weasley came to the door, dressed in long black robes and a black, lace-veiled hat that covered her face, in order to collect the group.

The service was held in an open field adjacent to the graveyard. Hermione sat next to Ginny, the two girls leaning against one another, dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs. Throughout the service, Harry noticed how Ron kept glancing over to the two girls, his wish to be the one Hermione was leaning against evident on his face to those who knew of Hermione's true identity. To everyone else it looked as though he were worried about his sister and cousin.

A few people spoke about each Fred, Remus, and Tonks, sharing light-hearted anecdotes. George had the entire group laughing through his tears as he shared memories of pranks the two had pulled. After Andromeda sat down from speaking about her daughter, Harry stood up and walked down the aisle to the front.

"I met Remus Lupin as my Defense teacher third year. When I had problems being near the Dementors that were surrounding Hogwarts, Remus took the time to teach me how to cast a Patronus. From our time spent together, I learned that he had been friends with my parents and eventually I learned the legacy of the Marauders.

"Since that time, I became friends of sorts with him and Sirius; aside from the Weasleys, they were the closest family I had. He took Sirius' death very hard, as did I. In that time, Tonks was his one shining light, no matter how much he tried to deny his feelings for her. When I learned the two of them had gotten married, I was so overjoyed that he had given in and accepted her love.

"When he learned of her pregnancy, he did not take the news well. He was so afraid that his child would either be born a werewolf or would be persecuted because of its parentage. I was rather harsh with him over it, and it took a good friend to help me understand his actions, but if the way I acted towards him helped send him back to his wife, then I would do it all over again.

"Theodore Lupin is the living legacy that Remus and Tonks left behind and, as his godfather, I intend to be sure that even if he doesn't remember his parents, he grows up knowing who they were and how much they loved him. I implore each of you to do the same.

"So, I guess all that's left to say is, Remus Lupin, you will be missed, but we will keep you in our hearts with everyone else we have lost, and as long as out hearts beat, you will never be forgotten." With tears in his eyes and clapping all around him, Harry made his way to his seat on the other side of Ginny, who took his hand and squeezed it. He gave her a wan smile as he turned back to the service, holding her hand in his lap.

Soon, everyone walked over to the platform that Fred's casket was elevated to and said goodbye before the wizard undertakers said a spell that caused the coffin to sink into the ground, the platform changing into a shiny tombstone, engraved with the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes logo above Fred's name.

Even as the group moved to where Remus and Tonks were to be interred together, the grass around Fred's tombstone turned into a small field of wildflowers. The process was repeated again for the last of the Marauders and his young bride. When the crowd started to disperse from the grave site, a piercing cry was heard. Hermione turned around to see Teddy wailing in Andromeda's arms as the woman had started to walk away from the daisy covered grave. 'It's as though he knows it's his final goodbye to his parents,' she thought just as Ginny voiced it, fresh tears streaming down each of their faces.

Seeing Ron move to comfort his crush, Ginny placed an arm around Hermione's shoulders and led her across the cemetery and to the Floo Station that was disguised as a mausoleum. Back at the Burrow, dinner was served. Afterward, everyone was poured a glass of firewhiskey that was held up in a toast to those that had been lost. Not too long after, the foursome detached themselves from the group and found their way to the den.

During their conversation, they came upon the subject of looking for the remaining Death Eaters. As always they weren't being told anything, despite the fact that Harry himself had been the one to kill Voldemort. Through the use of Extendable Ears they had learned that Kingsley believed most Death Eaters to have either fled, gone underground, or continued their lives as the upstanding citizens that they had always been believed to be. The plan was simply to wait a while and see if anything at all happened that would oust them. Until it was deemed safe, every member of the Order that was currently in any sort of hiding, even if it was just as simple as their house being under Fidelius, was to stay in their current situation.

Hermione wasn't surprised since Harry and McGonagall had pretty much told her as much the previous week. Ron asked how things were going with the Dursleys, his voice laced with sympathy as he thought of them through Harry's childhood stories.

"Pretty good. Petunia's warming up to me. Dudley and I spend a lot of time avoiding his father, though," she wrote on her notepad.

"Yeah, Harry told me what he did. Just shows he's just as violent as always, but without Harry to beat up on, he's moved on. You really should be careful, Hermione."

In response, Hermione slammed her hands down on the arms of her chair and stood up, glaring at Ron as she stormed out of the room. At the bottom of the staircase, she ran into Mrs. Weasley. "Oh, Hermione, I was just coming to fetch you. We need to take off your glamours and get you back." Hermione was nodding her head when she heard Ginny thundering down the stairs and calling her name.

"Hermione, he didn't mean it." At Hermione's disbelieving look, Ginny relented. "Okay, he did mean it, but Harry's setting him straight. Come back upstairs," the girl requested plaintively.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, but it's time to get Hermione ready to go home." As Hermione followed Mrs. Weasley into the kitchen the other girl went back up the stairs to let the boys in on the newest development.

The three came back downstairs to find everyone but family gone; George, Percy, Charlie, and Bill talking in the living room, and Molly and Fleur cleaning up the kitchen while Arthur was removing Hermione's glamours. "Hermione, I'm sorry for upsetting you. For his sake, he better have changed like Harry says; if he ever touches you, all his muscle and bulk won't be able to help him."

Both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked to Harry, who shook his head slightly, saying he had not shared the suspicions everyone who had seen the two together held. For her part, Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head at Ron. She pulled out her notepad and handed it over after finishing her response. "A bit overzealous, but thank you for the sentiment. However, I never want to hear of you picking a fight with him."

This time it was Ron's turn to roll his eyes. "Only if he hurts you." Behind their backs, glances were being exchanged, worried over what would happen when Hermione and Dudley gave in to their feelings, everyone in the room considering it a 'when' and not an 'if.'

"Done," Arthur pronounced, conjuring a mirror over so Hermione could inspect herself. When she grinned up at him and gave him a thumbs up, he told her that it was time for them to go. She went around to everyone, giving them all hugs, George's being the longest, and promised to write Harry, Ron, and Ginny.

After being dropped back off at the safe house, Hermione went and took a long shower, which gave ample time for all of the emotions of the day to come crashing back to her. After changing into pajamas, she made her way to Dudley's room where she found him playing video games. Upon her opening the door he immediately shut off the console and held out his arms, which she willingly went into. She handed over her pre-written note, to which he responded, "Of course you can stay here tonight."

Less than an hour and a half later, she drifted off to sleep snuggled in his arms while he soothingly ran his hand up and down her back. It took him quite a bit longer to doze off, contemplating the witch whose head was resting on his t-shirt clad chest.


	6. Chapter 6

"WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE!" Vernon bellowed, waking both teens up from a deep slumber. Hermione's immediate reaction to being awoken so abruptly and in such a harsh manner was to reach over to her bedside cabinet for her wand, but her hand found only air.

It was then that she remembered where she was and turned to find Dudley sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Huh?" he asked drowsily.

"I asked you what the hell is going on in here!" Vernon ground out. Petunia appeared behind him and craned her head over his shoulder to see what was happening in her son's room that had riled up her husband this time. When she saw Hermione sitting in Dudley's bed with a slightly frightened look on her face, their fingers entwined together, Petunia's eyes bulged out of their sockets.

Glancing sideways at her husband, Petunia stepped in front of him, taking in the almost purple of his face. "Hermione, let's get you to your own room."

Hermione looked over to Dudley, who nodded his head ever so slightly as he let go of her hand. Helping Hermione out of the bed, Petunia caught Dudley's eyes, her own pleading with him to not cause any more trouble than was already brewing.

When they were safely in the hallway, Vernon having closed the door behind them with a loud 'smack,' Petunia looked to Hermione. "I don't know what you were doing in there, but you must have realized that it wasn't very smart of you to stay the night in Dudley's room."

Walking into her own room, Hermione picked her wand up from its place on the table next to the door and Accio'd her notepad; Petunia didn't even flinch at the spell. "I just didn't want to be alone is all," she wrote.

"And that's understandable. I can see that you care for my son and he for you, despite the short time you've been here. But if you could, please try not to provoke Vernon. He would never actually hurt our Dudley, but he will never grow to accept you. I grew up jealous of my sister for what she could do and I couldn't. That jealousy turned into disdain, which turned into hatred of her and her world. It's only since Harry came home saying V- V-"

"You-Know-Who," Hermione interrupted, hastily shoving her notepad on Petunia's lap, wanting to hear the story but not be caught because of the taboo.

"Yes, You-Know-Who. When Harry came home and said he was back, I felt a fear that I hadn't expected. Underneath everything, I did love my sister, and he took her away from me; took away any chance of reconciliation. I'm sorry that you lost your friends, but I am very happy that he is dead and Harry is not.

"Since coming here, I have come to appreciate your world, but that is something I can never tell my husband. He hates magic because he learned of it through me and my hatred of it, but just because I am no longer upset that I can't do magic and am willing to accept it, does not mean he will follow me in this change. He is a stubborn man and has hated everything about magic for the last twenty-two years."

"Petunia," Hermione wrote, "I appreciate hearing all this and learning where everyone stands and why, but shouldn't you be having this conversation with Harry?"

Reading the thought, Petunia looked momentarily scared before dipping her head. "Yes, it is time I apologize to my nephew for how he was treated under my roof. But Hermione, just remember that when you leave here, no matter your attachment to my son, you won't have to deal with Vernon if you choose not to, but he will always be Dudley's father."

Hermione nodded her understanding and gave the skinny woman an awkward, but caring, hug before being left alone in her room.

"What is the meaning of this?" Vernon demanded, gesticulating between Dudley and the door he had just slammed shut.

"She didn't want to be alone," Dudley responded, now wide awake.

"So you let that... that... freak into your bed? Dudley, I swear, if anything... happened between you two..." he let the thought trail off, too disgusted to voice it.

"No, nothing happened," Dudley said with a 'what the hell' look on his face. "But if we had, I don't see how it would be any of your business."

"None of my business? NONE OF MY BUSINESS? You are my son; you are my business! I will not have you cavorting around with the likes of her, or any of her kind!"

"Any of her kind? Can you even hear yourself? You sound like she's not even human. Well, let me let you in on a little something, Dad, she is a human, with human thoughts, and human emotions, just like you and me." Dudley wanted nothing more than to stand up, but he knew that getting in his father's face would only serve to escalate the argument.

Vernon didn't have a retort to that, other than the further purpling of his face and clenching of his fists, so he decided to change the subject. "Dudley, I know that it's tough being cooped up in here day in and day out not being able to go anywhere or do anything. But I will not allow you to make a mistake with her just because she's the only girl you've been in contact with in the last year!" He had started off calmly, but he let himself get worked back up and by the end he was once again roaring. It took Dudley all of his self-control to stay in his bed, having inherited his father's temper but grown into the maturity to hold it.

"Dad, I may have at first been drawn to her for that reason, but now I like her as a person. No, not only do I like her, but I admire her. She has been through more than either of us can understand, and she doesn't need to deal with you being an arse to her."

"Dudley. Norman. Dursley. You WILL NOT tell me what to do! This may not be my house, but I am still your father, still the head of this family, and you WILL show me respect or you will stay in this room until we go home and the girl is no longer staying with us."

Not being able to control himself any longer, Dudley arose from the bed, standing a meter away from his father. "Dad, I show you respect in all other things, but on this I will no longer keep quiet. You treated Harry like he was less than the dirt on your shoes the entire time he was with us, and so did I because you were my role model. I am just lucky that my cousin is a big enough person to forgive me for everything I did to him.

"He's probably mentally damaged from living with us and always being treated like shite, and, if he is, it's all our fault. Mine, yours, and Mum's. His own family! Now let me tell you something, Dad. I love my cousin. I care for Hermione. And I couldn't care less that they can do magic and neither should you. If you are going to stick to your stupid prejudices, fine, but don't expect me to be anywhere that I have to listen to you spout your opinions." By the end of his speech, the two men were practically nose to nose, Dudley's hands clasped behind his back in avoidance of a repeat of their last fight.

"YOU WILL NOT BE LEAVING THIS ROOM FOR ANY REASON, BUT TO EAT AND USE THE TOILET! I DO NOT WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE ANYWHERE ELSE IN THIS HOUSE UNTIL I SAY OTHERWISE! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?!" Vernon bellowed, spittle landing on Dudley's face.

"Fine. It's not like I was planning on seeking out your company anyway," he replied indifferently, wiping his face with his arm. Vernon turned and left the room, first practically pulling the door off the frame and then almost splintering the frame itself when he slammed it shut again before stomping down the hall.

Dudley sat back on his bed, his head in his hands, replaying the scene. He had never gotten into such a bad row with his father before, and it left him feeling cold, empty, and drained. They had started bickering a few months back, largely due to the close quarters and cabin fever. Most of those times had been shortly after one of the wizards or witches who were hiding them came to check up on them.

Since they had received word of Hermione's impending arrival a few days previous to her actually showing up, though, the quarrels had turned into three-round, knock-out brawls. Dudley had always looked up to his father, though truth be told, he had only seen his parents for the Christmas and summer holidays since he was eleven and even when he was home he spent most of his time off around the neighborhood. In short, he hadn't been with his parents for such an extended period of time since he was in primary school.

He had, of course, realized his parents were prejudiced against wizards and witches; how could he not, what with Harry being what he was. But until he moved in here with them he hadn't realized just how ingrained that prejudice was into his father's very soul. Despite this fault, though, Dudley still loved his father. He was just afraid that his father's attitude was going to tear his family apart, especially since his mother was realizing the error in her beliefs the way he had the past couple of years.

Dudley refused to leave his room for the rest of the day, locking himself in and everyone else out and refusing to come down for meals. It was only after dinnertime, when Hermione knocked on the door and slipped a note under the door telling him that she had his dinner and she wasn't going to leave the hallway outside his room until he came out and took it from her, at the very least, that he gave in.

When he opened the door, she stood up with his food, giving him a tentative smile as she held it out for him. He smiled back wanly in return and motioned for her to come in. She set the food on his bedside cabinet and turned on the light there, as the room was completely dark, before gently pulling him into a soft hug, her arms around his neck and her head resting on his chest, tingles running up and down her spine when he wrapped his arms around her loosely and caressed the top of her head with his cheek.

She tilted her head up to look at his face, shadowed in the soft back lighting. There was a sadness in his eyes that she had never noticed before. She brought one hand to his face and rested it on the day-old stubble, unconsciously smoothing her thumb over his dry lips. "I'm sorry," she mouthed to him, her eyes mournful as she thought about the fight she and Petunia had heard every word of earlier, and how it started because of her.

He brought his hand up to hers and lightly kissed her thumb before pulling out of the hug and bringing her to sit on his bed, grabbing a quick sip from the milk she had brought. "For what?" he asked, holding her hand in his.

"For causing a fight between you and your dad," she replied, writing on her ever-present notepad.

"It wasn't your fault. You were just the excuse. The longer we stay here, the more we fight. This was the worst, but it wasn't your fault."

"Okay, I'll believe you. Now, eat your dinner before the Warming Charm I put on it wears off," she ordered. He rolled his eyes at her but started eating his plate of pot roast and potatoes with gusto. When he had cleaned his plate and finished his milk he excused himself to bring back the dishes and stop at the bathroom.

Upon returning to his room, he found that she had turned on his stereo to a local soft rock station and had lit a few candles, much like how she kept her own room. Once he had asked her why, and she had responded that she had gotten used to not having electricity and she preferred candles and oil lamps to the harshness of light bulbs. She still liked other parts of electricity, but she swore that if given the choice, she would never go back to flourescent lights.

She was sitting on his bed cross-legged, her eyes closed, swaying to the music with a small smile on her face. He had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. The door clicked closed behind him, bring her out of her trance. She looked up at him through her lashes, her smile spreading, and he was sure that she had no idea how sexy she was in that moment. He blinked his eyes a couple of times to reorient himself before smiling back at her and sitting next to her on the bed, stretching out and leaning against his headboard.

"One of the Aurors came by today. They named a new Minister of Magic. His name is Kingsley Shacklebolt and he's a very nice man with very strong principles. I'm sure the Muggleborn laws will be repealed soon," she wrote to him, leaning against his headboard as well.

"Well, that's good. Does that mean that you'll be leaving then?" he asked, not able to look at her.

"No, I don't think so. It just means that I can take my N.E.W.T.'s sometime soon. It doesn't change the fact that I'm still Muggleborn and still one of Harry's best friends."

"Then we'll just have to make sure you're prepared," he told her, relief coursing through his body.

"Are you sure? You don't have to help me. I'm used to studying by myself." She was looking over to him, her eyes filled with such warmth, and he knew in that moment that he didn't just care for Hermione Granger; he didn't just admire her. While he wouldn't call what he felt 'love,' he wanted nothing more than to see her smile, to be the one to cause her to smile. He wanted to be the one she went to when she was upset, or when she was happy. More than anything else, though, he wanted to find out what her pink, supple lips would feel like pressed against his own.

"I know I don't have to, Hermione. I want to." He moved his torso so he was facing her, the notepad slipping to the crevasse between their legs. His fingers found their way to her face, softly touching her cheek, her lips, her forehead, before threading his fingers into her surprisingly silky hair. Her eyes were darting between his own and his lips, anticipating what he was about to do, and she licked her own lips, finding them suddenly dry.

He brought his face down and grazed their mouths together before tentatively touching their lips together with a soft pressure. She gave into him right away, kissing him back just as softly, just as hesitatingly, bringing her hand up to clasp onto his muscular arm. She gave his bicep a small squeeze and it was as if the floodgates had broken. His second hand went to beneath her chin, holding her face in place as he deepened the kiss, pressing their lips together harder, sucking in her bottom lip and gently nibbling on it.

She silently sighed against his mouth and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, feeling the dimples of her teeth before her tongue gently ran up and down his. Her eyelashes fluttered against his cheek and he couldn't stop the moan that escaped his throat. She pulled out of the kiss and looked up at him, bringing her hand to his face and gently stroking the contrast of soft skin and rough stubble, a dazed smile on her face that he was sure matched the one on his own.

a/n: I chose Norman as the middle name just because it was my grandpa's middle name and I don't remember Dudley ever being given a middle name before.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione looked up at him with warm eyes, the smallest smile on her face. He leaned back down and kissed her forehead before he nuzzled their noses together. She settled down against him, her head on his chest and her arm around his waist. He also had an arm around her, but his free hand was playing with her hair. "You know you can't stay here tonight?" he asked reluctantly.

She nodded her head into him and moved her arm away to take her wand out of her pocket to Summon the fairy tale book Dumbledore had left to her, having forgotten it in the room a couple days previous. The book safely in hand, she turned it over to Dudley, placed her wand on the bed, and replaced her arm around his waist.

She cuddled into his warm body and listened as he read to her. He stumbled over some of the magical references, and she smiled at him as she forced herself not to reach up and touch her still tingling lips. She had only kissed one man before, Viktor, and that had been three years previous. Viktor had been worldly when it came to women, and while he taught her the art of kissing and they had engaged in some heavy petting, she had still only been fifteen and not ready to take the next step.

Hermione knew that Dudley was far more experienced than her, they had even had a conversation about it when a sexual reference on the telly went over her head. She also knew that he would never pressure her into anything she wasn't ready for or didn't want to do. It was one of the many things that put her to ease around him.

She fell asleep against him, and he stopped reading to her in favour of playing with a strand of soft, frizzy curls. Not too much later he woke her up and sent her to her own room in order to avoid waking up to his father's yelling again, though he did so rather reluctantly, and gave her a short, soft, good-night kiss to make it up to her.

 _Hermione was on the ground, screaming out as she writhed with the pain of thousands of knives cutting into her. The curse was lifted and she looked up into the eyes of her captors, no feeling in the icy depths, save for those of the youngest Malfoy, who looked as though he might be ill soon._

 _"Look at me, Mudblood," ordered her tormentor. In contrast to the fair Malfoy's, Bellatrix Lestrange was dark as dark could be, her own eyes swimming with mirth and rage at the position they were in._

 _"How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix screamed as she pulled Hermione up by the hair, her silver knife scraping against the skin of her jaw, leaving a shallow, stinging cut in its wake, blood dotting the surface. When Hermione didn't respond, she pulled the knife away, replacing it with her wand. "_

 _Hermione screamed until her throat had torn and her voice was gone as Bellatrix sent Crucio after Crucio upon her, trying to force information from her, letting go of Hermione's hair and letting her fall back to the floor, the pain of hitting the ground barely registering as it intermixed with the pain of the Unforgivable Curse. When it became horribly obvious that Hermione was not going to give in to the pain and reveal anything to her, Bellatrix stopped what she was doing and let out a laugh that made the blood run cold in the veins of every person in the room._

 _She walked around the young woman, her eyes intent as her manic laughter turned into a twisted smile. Standing about three feet in front Hermione, she flourished her wand and pointed it at her face, screaming the words, "Adflictatonis Veratis!"Crucio!"_

 _Hermione dropped to the ground, the pain in her throat from her renewed screams causing her to tear and cry just as much as the excruciating pain that was riding her body in waves. She had no idea what the curse used on her was, but it hurt much worse than the Crucio's had. The fact that she didn't know that there such a curse that could cause more pain than Crucio was her last thought before she passed out, falling into Draco, who quickly moved away from her unconscious touch, letting her hit the floor._

Hermione woke up with a jolt, the memories her dream contained still in her mind. She snuggled back into her pillow as she tried to think of happier things, her earlier kiss with Dudley first on the list.

A full hour later, Hermione was almost asleep when a sudden thought came to her and wouldn't leave, causing her to get up and pen a short letter to Harry, asking him to come over at the earliest time possible. With her mind relieved of this new thought, she fell back into an uneasy sleep.

That morning Hermione gave the letter to the witch who had come to check up on them before she spent the rest of her time before lunch studying. After lunch, Hermione dressed in summer workout clothes: small, pale blue, terrycloth shorts and a white tank top, and went over to Dudley's room, where she knocked on the door.

When he opened the door and looked at her, his eyes seemed slightly shocked with her attire, but then he read the note she had written. "Will you teach me to box again?"

"Of course," he responded, his face splitting into a grin, happy that she was taking an interest in his favourite sport and hobby. She came into the room and closed the door while he pulled out his punching bag and stand from the corner and placed them in the centre of the room where there was a large open space. After he head her through some warm-ups, she stood in front of the bag to show him her stance.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to get it. Eventually he gave up on telling her what to do, and instead positioned her feet properly and held onto her waist as he showed her how to centre herself. He held onto her slightly longer than necessary, his fingers massaging her skin through her clothes, but he pulled away sooner than he would have liked.

"Okay. We're going to start with a jab. Do you remember the moves from last time?" When she nodded her head, he ran his fingers through his short hair. "Well then, let's see it," he prompted, standing back.

She chewed her lower lip in concentration as she reached her arm out, punching the bag, her hand covered in a pair of his glove wraps rather than actual boxing gloves so he could watch the movement of her wrist.

"Not bad," he commented, "but you're forgetting your extension and follow through. Here, watch me." She moved aside, eyes watching him intently as he did the same move as her, only much more gracefully, his entire body flowing into it effortlessly.

As soon as she had gotten it right with one arm she had to learn it with the other as well, while Dudley continuously corrected her stance.

They took a short break before they moved on to the hook. During the break, she went down to the kitchen and came back with a couple of apples and bottles of cold water. She had finally gotten her stance right, and continuously remembered her follow through, when she felt his hands wrap around her, lightly tickling her sides. She was in the middle of a punch and completely missed as she stumbled towards the large hanging bag.

He caught her and as soon as she had her balance she whirled around, glaring at him. He responded by giving her a lopsided grin that was reminiscent of Harry's and attacked her with his fingers. She tried slapping his hands away through her silent giggles. When she realised that that wasn't going to get her anywhere, she started to poke and tickle him back.

She was no match for his longer arms, and she found herself cowering away from him, tears of laughter streaking her face. She backed away, still tickling him back to no avail, and eventually hit the bed with the back of her legs. She fell back onto the bed, her chest heaving in her breathlessness, and Dudley crawled on the bed above her, his face alight with his own laughter, his hands taking a hold of one of her sock covered feet, and he lightly traced her instep with his fingers.

She squirmed out of his grasp, pushed him down, and straddled his waist while she held his hands down with her knees. She started tickling his sides mercilessly, a smirk on her face. Neither noticed the door open or a redheaded wizard enter the room.

"Hermione?" Ron asked in confusion, embarrassment, and judging by the colour of his quickly darkening face and ears, anger.

Hermione had stilled where she was before slowly turning to the doorway. Ron gave her a pointed look, his eyes darting between her and Dudley.

"Having fun?" Ron asked, his voice hard. Hermione looked down to Dudley and for the first time realised the position they were in. She pushed off of him so she stood on the floor and turned to Ron with a smile on her face. Dudley sat up properly, and looked at Ron with an air of curiousness, wariness, and haughtiness. The last time he had seen any of the Weasley children, his tongue had grown to a tremendous size.

When Hermione nodded in response to Ron's question, ignoring his tone, Dudley broke into a small smirk while the wizard in question glowered. It was obvious to Dudley that he had competition. Hermione wrapped Ron in a hug, and as he hugged her back his fingers touched the skin between her shorts and tank top, making him notice that this was the least amount of clothing he had ever seen her in.

Hermione pulled back and looked between the two young men, her face slightly puzzled. It was Dudley who first figured out her dilemma. He stood up off the bed so he was next to her, happy that the constricting material of his jeans covered the erection that was the result of their tickle fight. He held out his hand to the redhead. "Nice to meet you. I'm Dudley."

Relieved that she didn't have to figure out how to make the introduction without speaking, Hermione smiled up at Dudley, her hand grazing his bicep. "Ron Weasley," came the reply, Ron's voice as tight as his face while his arms strained to keep his hands at his sides. Dudley let his own hand drop back down, one eyebrow raised out of Hermione's line of sight.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione mouthed to Ron, not noticing that her fingers had intertwined with Dudley's when his hand had lowered.

"He's in the den talking to his aunt." Hermione nodded with a smile before Ron continued on. "But what I want to know is just what is going on in here."

"I was teaching Hermione to box," Dudley responded matter-of-factly.

"That sure didn't look like boxing to me," Ron bit out, though it was obvious he was working hard to control his temper.

"Well, it did turn into a bit of a tickle fight," Dudley admitted with a cocky grin behind Hermione's back.

"Hermione, how can you even be friendly with him, after everything he's done to make Harry miserable?"

Dudley went to respond for her, but she put her hand on his chest and shook her head up at him as she moved to pick up her notepad. "Ron, I think I know more than you do about how Harry was treated, what with me living with his relatives and all. Mrs. Dursely is changing her ways and opinions, and Dudley has already done so. Don't you remember Harry saying how weird it was that he was being so nice last summer?"

As Ron read the words, his lips twisted in disgust. He knew that she was speaking the truth, but he didn't was to lose her to Dudley. If nothing else, he thought that she should be with a wizard, even if it wasn't him, since he didn't think a Muggle could really understand her. But just because he thought that, didn't mean he was stupid enough to tell her so.

"Yes, I do remember. But you are my best friend and I don't want anything to happen to you," he responded, concern in his voice though his eyes glared icily at Dudley, who rolled his own eyes.

"That's very sweet of you, but I'm not going to get hurt. After all, that's why I'm here, to keep me safe and hidden," she wrote, her face wrinkled in distaste.

"Not what I meant and you know it."

Hermione was scrawling away at her response when Harry appeared behind Ron. "Hey, Harry!" Dudley said, slightly over-enthusiastically, bringing the attention onto his cousin rather than the current argument.

"Hello, Dudley," Harry replied slowly as he took in the tension in the air. "Am I interrupting anything?" Hermione tucked away her notepad and shook her head as Ron glared at Dudley.

"Okay," he said disbelievingly. "You wanted to see us, Hermione? Your letter was very vague."

She smiled brightly up at him and nodded before turning to Dudley. "Go," he said, rolling his eyes. "If you still want to learn to box later, you know where to find me."

"Thanks," she mouthed to him before she led her two best friends to her room.

"Did you and your aunt have a nice chat?" she wrote to Harry once they were all settled.

"Nice? I think so. Completely unexpected and surprisingly touching? Definitely. She apologised for how she's treated me, and she told me some stories of her and my mum from when they were little. She even told me about Snape. Apparently the way he treated her helped to tip the scales of her jealousy and dislike."

"What?" Hermione mouthed, her confusion written all over her face before she changed back to writing. "What does Snape have to do with anything? How does your aunt even know him, she hated magic far before you went to Hogwarts."

"You mean I didn't tell you about Snape?" Harry said, shocked. Ron gaped at his friend; he would have imagined that being the first thing Harry would have told her.

"You told me he died. What else is there to say, unless he suddenly wasn't the one to kill Professor Dumbledore and it was really someone else Polyjuiced as him?"

"No. He did it because Professor Dumbledore made him promise. He knew that he was dying from the curse on the ring, and he didn't want Malfoy to become a killer."

"How do you know that?" she wrote, looking at her friends disbelievingly, though she could see in both their faces that it was the truth.

"Just before he died, he gave me some of his memories. It was how I knew that I had to die, though I wasn't expecting to come back. But he.. he met my mum when they were kids, even before Hogwarts. He was in love with her, and she was his best friend. But when he called her a Mudblood in their fifth year she would no longer speak to him. He never stopped loving her, though. It was why Professor Dumbledore was so sure that he was on our side; that he would never go back to following the monster who had killed my mother."

"Oh, Harry," she mouthed, bringing her hand up to caress his cheek. She wasn't surprised that he hadn't told her before, as it must have taken him a lot of effort to come to terms with this new information. She was just glad that he was telling her now.

"So, what's this idea you had to see us about?" Ron asked, wanting to change the subject, though his curiosity on the matter had grown considerably since Harry had brought it up.

"I think I know how to get my voice back," she wrote, a grin spreading across her face.


	8. Chapter 8

This is the last chapter! Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this, as I know Dudley is not a popular pairing. This chapter has smut in it, which I no longer feel the need to add into my stories, preferring plot, but since it is how I originally wrote it, I decided to keep it.

Three Weeks Later

"Harry Potter, we have heard your testimony on behalf of Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy. Is there anything you have not said that you wish to make heard in front of the Wizengamot?" Interim Minister Basinger asked from his seat in the very middle of the front row.

"No, sir," Harry replied.

"Very well, you may retake your seat." Harry stood up and walked to the audience box, the eyes of the majority of the room following his every move until he sat between Hermione and Ron.

"Is there anyone else present who would like to speak out on behalf of the Malfoy family?" The crowd looked around, but no one raised their hand.

"Is there anyone else present who would like to speak out against the Malfoy family?" There were no hands for this inquiry either, though the number of people speaking against the Malfoys had far out numbered those speaking for them. The Malfoy family would forget neither.

"In that case, it is now time to make our ruling. Those who find Lucius Malfoy guilty of the crime of being a Death Eater, raise your hand." Hands were immediately raised throughout the room, until it appeared every hand was in the air.

"Those who find Lucius Malfoy not guilty of the crime of being a Death Eater, raise your hand." Hermione looked around, counting the sporadic not guilty votes. There were eleven.

"Very well. Lucius Malfoy, you are found guilty of the crime of being a Death Eater. The next charge against you is the use of the Killing Curse and the Cruciatus Curse. Those who find Lucius Malfoy guilty of using the aforementioned Unforgivable Curses, please raise your hand."

The list of charges were read, and the verdicts were voted upon. The only charges that stuck were for the general crime of being a Death Eater for both Lucius and Draco. They were found not guilty for all of the other charges because, while it was believed by everyone that Lucius, at the least, was guilty, there was absolutely no evidence to support the belief.

Lucius was sentenced to one year in Azkaban, which had been cleared of all dementors, while Draco was sentenced to one year of community service. The younger Malfoy received a lesser sentence due to his inability to follow through with his task that had been set forth by Voldemort. Both of the sentences were lighter than some of those already tried; not only because none of the others had The Boy Who Lived testifying on their behalf, but also because the others didn't have the same amount of money to spend on bribes.

When the trial was finished, Hermione, Harry, and Ron, along with Madame Pomfrey, walked back down to the open circle of the court floor, where Draco and Narcissa were saying their good-byes to Lucius.

Narcissa pulled away from her husband and turned to face the trio of teens. "Thank you for speaking on our behalf," Narcissa said, her voice as proper as they had ever heard it.

"I only told the truth. If it helped sway the votes in your favour, all the better for you," Harry responded. All three of them thought that the Malfoy family had gotten off far too leniently, but with no proof of their crimes, there was nothing that could be done for it. "Now that your trial is over, though, it is time to move on to the matter of Hermione's voice," he continued.

Lucius turned a disdainful eye on Hermione. She may have been the reason Harry had spoken on his behalf, but he still felt she was beneath him in every way.

Despite knowing that he wouldn't hurt her in the middle of a courtroom full of witnesses, Hermione still trembled when the Malfoy patriarch turned to her. "In Vocalis Integrum Restituere," he intoned in a bored voice, flicking out his hand and surprising the trio with his wandless magic skills.

Hermione felt a wave of soft warmth infuse her throat before there was a searing pain as her vocal chords knit themselves back together. Madame Pomfrey appeared from behind them, and handed over a potion to soothe her raw throat, as well as numb it. Lucius had had enough foresight to warn them of the pain so they would not assume he had caused her further harm.

Hermione opened her mouth to try and make even a sound, but the Medi-witch saw what she was doing and put a stop to it right away. "Miss Granger!" she admonished. "You know that you are not to try and speak for at least a week. Your vocal chords need time to properly fuse back together without any stress. If you get restless and speak too soon, it could tear your vocal chords and you will have to start over from square one. You have to wait until I say, and that won't be for at least a week."

Hermione gave a sheepish pout, though she knew that Madame Pomfrey was right, and she certainly didn't want to make the healing process to take even longer. She couldn't wait to be able to speak and even just make sound again, but if she had been able to get through the previous few months, she could go for another week.

Dudley walked into the bedroom of the flat he rented with his wife and stopped dead in his tracks. She was sprawled across the bed, napping. Her face was tilted to the side, a small amount of drool escaping her mouth. And she was buck naked.

He stripped down to his boxer briefs as he edged closer to the bed, thankful to be out of his suit and tie. The summer was hot and the air was on the fritz. Hermione had done her best to apply Cooling Charms to the house, but they only lasted a few hours, at best.

He gingerly sat on the bed before he lifted her head and rested it on his torso as he lay down. It was too hot to sleep, and he squirmed under the heat of Hermione's body, which had wrapped itself around him as soon as he had settled down. He could have chosen to fix himself dinner, but he could not resist the opportunity to feel his wife's skin against his own.

While he still spoke to his mother on a regular basis, as did Harry after the two had started to mend their broken relationship, neither man spoke to Dudley's father, who had disowned them. He had given Dudley an ultimatum, and Dudley had chosen Hermione without a second thought, and had never looked back.

Half an hour or so after he had fallen into a fitful sleep, he awoke to a cooler room, and the delicious sensation of his cock being stroked through his underwear. He moaned as his eyes opened wide, and Hermione took the opportunity to invade his mouth with her tongue. "Did you have a good meeting?" she asked when she finally pulled away.

"Yes, but I'm having a much better night now," he responded, smirking at her.

"And is there anything I can do to make the night even better?" she purred into his ear, her breasts pressed against the side of his chest while her hand continued rubbing his clothed cock, which was now fully hardened.

"There are a few things that come to mind," he replied, his voice thick as he grabbed her hips and flipped her over so she was laying on the bed and he was in between her legs. He quickly pulled off his only garment and threw it to the floor.

He lifted her leg and brought her ankle to his mouth and started leaving flutteringly light kisses along the insides of both of her legs, slowly reaching higher and higher. When he reached her apex he breathed in her scent and burrowed his face in her patch of neatly trimmed curls.

He licked up and down her slit before he held onto her legs to keep her from moving. She gasped out his name as one of her hands went to her breast, and the other threaded itself to play with and tug on his short hair. His tongue probed her in smooth circles, teasing her labia until he gave into her pleas and roughly played with clitoris before delving inside her, his tongue changing its rigidity so one minute he was rapidly entering and pulling out of her in a preview of what was to come, and the next minute, his organ was flexible, lapping at her inner walls. He finally brought her over the brink when he returned to her clit, this time adding teeth.

When she had finished quivering under him, he let go of her legs and plundered his way up the rest of her body until his tongue was doing to her mouth what it had just been doing to her core.

He opened her legs and positioned himself at her entrance, and gave a shallow thrust, then another. She soon got tired of this, wrapped her legs around him, and dug her heels into his arse to force him in deeper.

When he finally complied with a wicked grin, he slammed into her, causing her to shriek out and dig her nails into his shoulders, muscular from boxing, which he continued to pursue in his spare time. He stroked deeply into her, sure to hit all of her sweet spots he had found over their last three years together.

Suddenly, Dudley pulled out and sat down, leaning against the headboard. He was cross-legged, his heavy erection jutting out, their combined fluids causing it to slightly glisten. Hermione's eyes followed him, drinking him in. From the moment he had given her her first orgasm, she couldn't seem to get enough of him.

"Big D's getting lonely over here, love. Perhaps you could keep him company," Dudley said huskily, bringing her out of her lust-induced stupor.

"Mmmm, we wouldn't want that, now would we?" she replied, crawling over to him.

"No, we wouldn't," he said, groaning as her hand wrapped around his sticky cock.

"And just what is it that Big D wants?" Hermione murmured against his ear, her hand slowly pumping him and her nipples gently brushing against his chest, sending tingles throughout her body.

"You," he answered gruffly, picking her up and pulling her so she was seated in his lap, her legs spread wide as her knees rested on the bed, straddling his body. He bent slightly forward and caught one of her breasts in his mouth, his hands on her hips as she sank down onto him, encasing his member once more in her soft heat.

They were soon in a steady rhythm, her hands braced on his knees, her back arched. The slapping of skin, along with moans and gasps, were the only noises to come from the room for quite some time.

Eventually the noises became more frantic, until finally they had each reached their peak. Neither moved from their position for a few minutes, Hermione resting her head on Dudley's shoulder.

"How was your day?" Dudley eventually asked, having realised that Hermione had taken an interest in his day, but he had failed to do the same in his haste to make love to her.

"It was good," she answered, reapplying a Cooling Charm to the room before sprawling out on the bed. "I went to see the doctor this morning."

"Did they find out why you've been so run-down lately?" he asked, concerned.

"Mmmm hmmm," she said, rolling over so she was looking at him. "I'm pregnant… we're going to have a baby."

The End


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